


Cas Takes On The World

by DaisytheDoodleDog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel! - Freeform, M/M, One-shots!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-07-13 07:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16013483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisytheDoodleDog/pseuds/DaisytheDoodleDog
Summary: Another day, another hunt... But to Castiel, the world is full of interesting things and he wants to experience it all! The only problem: He doesn't know if Sam, Dean, and him will survive to see the next day. A series of one-shots about Cas's discoveries on earth! Slight Destiel. And by slight... I mean as much Destiel as I can stuff into a short chapter. *requests wanted* Enjoy!





	1. Snowglobe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome! I've been all over the internet reading fanfics and looking at fan art. Okay so here's a cute fanfic about them! Review please! This will be mostly centered around everyone's favorite angel! Please leave ideas of things for Cas to discover!
> 
> Also, this is sort of an AU where you can see Cas's wings.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Snowglobe**

It was one of those miserable gloomy days, that looked as if all hell was going to break loose, but for some reason didn't. The sky was layered in ominous grey clouds that seemed to shatter any color. It was also cold. Not like a refreshing night breeze, more like a chilled to the bone kind of wind gust that made your teeth chatter along with the rattling leaves. At the woods edge, you could hear the dramatic whistle of that wind rushing through the leaves and still see the tall grass sway violently in the clearing. The weeds up to hip length cut back and forth from the fall gusts. Birds could not be heard. Not even an occasional cricket. It was a deadly silence. At least for Sam.

He had blocked everything out, like he mostly did on a hunt, but it was different this time. Because now, there was no way he could save his brother.

Sam watch from a distance, and in horror as his brother dropped from the sky. He blinked, trying to think that he was imagining this, but when he opened his eyes, he could still see him falling.

**Earlier that day...**

"Sam are you even sure these things exist? I mean it's just Greek legend." Sam nodded his head, even though he was fully immersed in his book about Greek mythology.

They walked down the side walk of the sleepy little town in Washington state. It was one of those towns with no big companies, only little, family owned businesses. Tiny cafes lined the relatively empty roads, little flags blowing in the cold November air. Dean clung his jacket tighter around himself and grumbled about chasing the nonexistent.

"Well how else would someone drop from the sky, torn from limb to limb?!" Sam snapped, slapping his book shut. Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stopped and looked next to him. Cas was gone.

"Uggggh." Dean groaned as ran a hand over his face in annoyance. "Where did the little shit go now?"

Sam whipped around, frantically scanning the little Main Street for a man in a trench coat. The shops were all decorated for thanksgiving and all the little tourist type of things. And if Cas found something new, which was most things, then he would've ran off.

"Dammit. He could be anywhere." Sam groans echoed Dean's. Dean turned around and began to peek in every little shop they had passed. Mostly it was tie-dye shirts and other hippie crap, Dean thought. He peered into a jewelry shop, but nothing. Sam began to cross the road, glancing into a voodoo store full of the fake stuff that made him roll his eyes. Dean turned the corner of the uneven sidewalk and came to another little tourist shop.

"The Enchanted Attic. Oh this sounds fun." Dean snarked sarcasticly. The window was filled with voodoo dolls and weird medallions. Snow globes, crysat balls, and Books on witches and herbal remedies were displayed over velvet blankets. Dean climbed the crumbling steps and opened the splintered wooden door. A little bell rang out, almost to joyfully as he entered the room. A rush of smells, mostly vanilla and cinnamon entered his nose. The walls were painted purples and blues, and covered with sparkling pendants, "Fairy dust" and all kinds of weird little objects. Stacks of old, worn books were messily tossed onto shelves. Pots and little vases scattered the room, filled with flowers, herbs and powders.

"Oh lord." Dean rolled his eyes, inching his way through the thin isle. There was too much crap piled everywhere. He flinched as he knocked little knick-knacks off the racks. But he ignored it. He turned around another shelf, to see he had made it to the back of the whacked-out shop. And to see Cas staring, mesmerized at a snow globe.

"Cas! You can't just walk off like that!" Cas turned, surprised that Dean was there.

"Oh! Dean! Look at this! How do they put snow in these? Wouldn't it melt?" Dean mouthed an 'oh lord,' and took the snow globe and shook it. He rested it back on the shelf and watched Cas, who gazed wide-eyed as the little white specks fell down.

"Come on Cas. There's no time for shopping. We're on a hunt." Dean tugged Cas but the arm, breaking his stare at the little snow globe. Cas gave Dean a look of irritation behind his back, sticking his hands in his pockets, Cas followed him out the door.

"Sam is right over there. Tell him I'll be there in a second... And no J-walking!" Dean snapped. As much as Dean was all for breaking the rules, he did not want to be arrested or fined today. And Cas still had a lot to learn about laws, even if they often broke a couple dozen of them. Cas nodded and shoved his hands deeper inside his pockets, heading over to Sam, who once again his head stuck inside his book. Dean glanced around, only to turn and open the shops door again, the damn little bell ringing joyfully as he entered.

**...**

“Dean, I'm telling you, it's a Strix! Look, it hunts on human flesh and snatches them with talons. That would explain the weird slashes on the bodies. It tears them limb from limb... and eats them."

"Yeah but the bodies were dropped. Not eaten." Sam bit his lip and scrolled further on the website. His eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long, but he needed answers. He could feel Dean breathing over him, making Sam glare at him annoyance.

"Here." He pointed triumphantly to the bolded words on the old computer screen. Everything was a competition between him and his brother. Dean's eyes moved back and forth as he read the text. He gulped. Why another thing that had to do with flying?

"Okay so... it takes any human but only eats the pure. That's just great." Dean backed away from the computer, fully ready to hop into the Impala and get the hell out of there.

He glanced back as Cas who was reading Greek mythology books, as well as children books. He currently had 'Goodnight Moon' in his hands as he scanned the pages, fully immersed into this human stuff.

"So the people it dropped were impure? Like bad guys?" Sam nodded and ran a hand through his messy hair. Dean grumbled a 'great' and stared at the rough sketch of the owl like creature. Sam exhaled shakily, trying to think of how the heck to kill the thing. Dean was wondering the same thing.

"So... how do we kill the son of a bitch?" Sam turned to his brother and twitched a sly smirk.

"Bait."

**...**

“Sam I am 100% against this plan." Dean complained again. A smile tugged at Sam's lips as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

"Dean. We need you to be bait. You're impure so he'll drop you. But he will barely even touch you. I'll shoot him. He's a creature so silver should work fine."

"Should?! That makes me feel so much better!" Dean snapped. He hung up his phone and glanced the darkening skies above him. He was in the open, the tallest thing in the clearing. The grass swayed violently as winds picked up more rapidly. He glanced around nervously trying to steady his beating heart.

"Sammy if I die, I'm going to kill you." He mumbled to himself bracing for whatever was about to come. He couldn't even see Cas or his brother. That didn't give him much help. Dean gulped and turned, hearing a sudden screech. His eyes widened. Oh god.

Suddenly a large creature came crashing from the sky. It's screech pierced the air, it's talons spreading ready to snatch Dean. "Now!" Screamed Dean, but it was too late. The creature grabbed him by the shoulders, digging into his skin causing Dean to curse in pain. With one beat of his wings, the Strix shot back up into the air, disappearing completely into the clouds. Dean's shouts had faded as everything became oddly silent. Sam lowered his weapon in complete shock. The Strix had been to fast. And now Dean was going to be torn from limb to limb. The silver dagger dropped from his hand. Cas's breath caught in his throat as Dean disappeared. He curled his fists in rage. His eyes narrowed and his breathing slowed trying to contain the shock and anger he felt. He studied the skies, finding it too be an endless grey color, as if all vibrancy in the blues had been washed away.

"I'm not goin' out this way!" Dean screamed as the Strix talons dug deeper into him, blood seeping out. Dean breathing became light as he was so high up he couldn't see the ground below. His chest heaved for air. Maybe it was because of the thin air. Maybe because he was flying, and that terrified him. His cheeks and hands became flushed from the frozen air. He winced as the creature shrieked again. He felt his legs give out, his struggling slow as oxygen was not getting in. His eyes began to close, slipping into an unconscious state. He shook his head with all his strength.

"No." Dean spoke breathlessly and pulled out a dagger from his belt. He fumbled with it in his hands, having trouble controlling it. He could feel himself slip unconscious. His hearing a high pierced ring and his ear drums popping coming close to what felt like a small explosions. His lungs screamed and his body rapidly became desperate for air and the blood he was quickly losing. With the last of his energy and a painful grunt, he stabbed the Strix in the leg.

Sam watch from a distance, and in horror as his brother dropped from the sky. He blinked, trying to think that he was imagining this, but when he opened his eyes, he could still see him falling. The worst part was that he was frozen. He couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. There was no way of saving him. His eyes widened watching him plummet. But he was still hundreds of feet in the air. Dean looked so little in the sky, the only thing that appeared in the darkness.

Suddenly, a gust of wind shot past Sam, messing up his hair, and causing him to stumble forward. He barely caught a glimpse of what it was. But he somehow knew. It was Castiel. Cas beat his large wings together has hard as he could shooting upwards like a bullet. He burst through the thick clouds, just to watch an unconscious Dean fall past him. Cas turned... and dived.

Wind hit his face so hard that it burned. His wings pounded heavily against the wind. Heck, he could hear them. He had to go faster. He had to catch Dean. He just had too. Cas reached his arms out desperately. He was only inches away from Dean. But they were also only 100 meters from hitting the ground. Cas grunted beating his wings furiously one last time as he burst forward, his arms outstretched.

Cas's arms found Dean's chest as he wrapped him in a tight embrace. Cas grunted again suddenly folding his wings and flipping over onto his back. Tears welled up from the whipping winds. Cas's eyes grew heavy as the gloomy sky got further and further away. He held Dean in his chest his wings becoming uncontrollable. Then...

He hit the ground.

Sam ran. Oh he ran so fast, that his throat was dry and his lungs heaved for air. His bag bounced wildly on his back, it's contents spilling out. But Sam didn't care. He had to get to them. He slid to a halt and coughed as the air was dusty and foggy.

He squinted and cautiously kept moving, watching his step. the only soud was his panicked breath. The wind had faded and now everything was silent and motionless. And if he was being honest, that's what scared him the most. He stopped and peered over the edge of a crater. He slid into the massive ditch, grasping roots to steady himself. He scooted down, little pebbles tumbling down with him. His feet sank into the mud, as he crept over the the shadowed figure in the dust. He gasped at what he saw.

Cas was laying there, on his back. His large white wings, now splattered in mud, and brown with dirt. The frayed feathers blew gently. They seemed loose, as you could pluck them right off. His wings were wrapped up at an odd angle, and so were his arms. Sam's breath hitched in his throat, fearing the worst. Tears welled up as he stepped closer and slowly unraveled Castiel's fragile wings. Inside his wings and tucked under his arms was...

Dean. Bloodied and unconscious, but breathing. His head was tucked in Cas's chest which too was rising and falling slowly, almost labored. Ever so slowly, Cas opened his eyes. A little groan escaped his lips. His face was beat up and dirty, and it was clear that he was in a lot of pain.

"D-did... Did I s-save him-m?" Cas whispered, barely understandable. His voice was hoarse and interrupted by a weak cough. Sam smiled through the tears in his eyes and nodded. He laid a hand on Cas's shoulder.

"Yeah... Yeah, You saved him." And with that, Cas's head feel back with a soft moan and became unconscious once again.

**...**

Sam sat in the ratted arm chair that sat in the corner of their motel room. The blinds were shut, but light still leaked through the cracks. Sam watched his big brother sprawled out on his bed shirtless, in a restless sleep. His shoulders were bandaged up, but he could still see the dark spots of blood underneath. Sam shifted, glancing at Cas, whose wings were tucked away and who was finally rested comfortably. Sam tried to get back into his book, but he kept glancing at his big brother as he moved his arms and legs, groaning in his sleep. Sam sighed watching his brother sadly. It tore him up to see him this way. His eyelashes fluttered and his whole body winced as he must have been dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Dean's upper lip twitched into a frown.

“Hmm... Cas." Dean mumbled Sam snorted and slapped his hand over his mouth, doing what he could to not wake them. He couldn't help but smirk at his brother. He could totally see it. The way Dean got all fidgety around Cas. How he suddenly became awkward, as Cas was still learning the term 'personal space.' And most of all the looks they gave each other. Dean would glance at Cas, almost hopefully, but Cas never saw. Sam would watch his expression fall, as if he thought Cas didn't look at him back. Oh but Cas did. He would gaze fondly at Dean, when he was too busy to notice. Watching the two hurt Sam. He wanted them to just say it. But if he knew his brother, it would take a million years before Dean admitted it.

Sam stood, as Dean flinched again, pain written all over his face. Softly, Sam shook his arm trying to get his brother away from his nightmares.

"Dean... Dean." Dean opened his eyes, startled. He looked around the room, still in a daze.

"Sam?" He groaned, slowly propping him self up against his pillows. "What happened?" Sam smiled softly.

"Castiel. He save your life." Sam whispered. Dean suddenly shot upright, tossing the tangled blanket off him. He looked at the bed next to him frantically. His chest rose and fell quickly in his panic.

"Cas! Is... Is-" Sam pushed his brother back down.

"He's fine." Sam whispered again trying to calm Dean down. Dean bit his lip, shaking his head, as if somehow, he blamed himself. Same gave him a soft expression, feeling guilty that he himself should take the blame. Castiel's groans paused Sam's thinking, as the angel opened his eyes.

"Cas!" Dean jumped up, trying to break away from Sam who was holding him back. Cas looked overwhelmed for a second, just staring at Dean. Slowly Sam let go, feeling somewhat confident that Dean wouldn't freak out again. He sighed and looked at the two unfortunate souls.

"I'm uh... going out. To get some... stuff, yeah. So I'll be... back." Sam sputtered out, grabbing a jacket and sliding out the door.

The room was quiet as the two men just stared at each other. Dean fumbled with the bed sheet, trying to ignore the ache his shoulders gave. He didn't want Cas to see that he was hurting. Dean sighed shakily, trying to make a conversation.

"Y-you okay?" Cas shrugged and gave a little nod. Dean broke their gaze as he turned to his bag tossed over the coffee table. He got out of the creaky bed and limped over, his legs still numb. He rooted through his stash of weapons, gum wrappers, and salt bags looking for the little purple plastic bag. He smiled as he held it up. Slowly, he made his way back to the beds, and handed Cas the bag.

Can cocked his head in confusion as he opened the little bag. A smile tugged at his lips as he held up the snow globe. Dean looked down nervously, which was not his thing. He wasn't supposed to get flushed and awkward like a middle school boy.

"Cas I-" Dean was cut off as Cas leaned forward and pecked his cheek. Dean felt a blush rise up his neck and his eyes widened. Cas smiled. "W-what-"

"Sam told me that is how you say thank you to your friends." Dean grinned and Cas as he shook the snow globe. 'I'm going to kill the jerk of a brother later.' Dean growled in his head, but for some reason, he didn't seem all to bothered that Cas kissed him.

"Cas?" Cas paused his fascination with the globe and looked up at Dean. He gave a little nod, motioning him to continue. "What happened? I mean with the Strix." Cas's mouth made an 'o' shape as he put down the snow globe.

"I caught you. But... I couldn't stop in time, before we hit the ground.” Dean's eyes widened sadly. Cas felt as if he could read Dean's mind. Dean felt guilty. His expression told it all. But Cas realized how much he was willing to sacrifice for Dean. He exhaled slowly.

"It's fine though. I'm okay, as long as you are." Dean hinted a smile. Those words made him feel like he was floating. He watched Cas's stoic face became joyful as he sat on the bed next to Dean. He shook the snow globe violently, and watched The sparkled specs sway down. Dean smiled as they leaned into each other, watching the snow fall in a peaceful silence.


	2. Dream Catcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas discovers that Dean is suffering from severe nightmares, and with Dean’s reluctance to allowing Castiel’s angel “mojo,” the angel must find another way to rid of Dean’s bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi and welcome to the second chapter revolving around the world of Cas! Last chapter I kinda thought it would have been cool if you could see angel wings. Like they were retractable!
> 
> A friend of mine asked me to write one about Cas discovering a dream catcher. So yeah... here we go! There is no exact date of when these one-shots take place, so for the most part, no spoilers for anyone behind me.
> 
> Warning: Destiel!
> 
> Please leave me requests!
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Dream Catcher

"It smells like pee in here." Sam grumbled, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the crappy little motel room. It was tight, only a couch and coffee table that sat in front of a tv, clearly from the 80s. The kitchenette was nothing but a slab of granite connected loosely to the wall. A molded coffee pot sat on top. The room smelled of moth balls and well... pee. But the boys had no other choice.

The rain outside was a soft pitter-patter, that would have been soothing if it weren't for the A/C grunting and sputtering, trying to push cold air into the already frigid room.

Sam glanced around his eyes narrowing the more he looked at the place. He could put it in his top ten worst motel rooms. He looked at the ugly wallpaper. A faded green and tan striped paper on one side. And floral pattern on the other, it's colors drained of any vibrancy. On the other side of the paint-peeling, paper thin wall was a bedroom with musty, stained carpet. With... only one bed.

"Son of a bitch." Dean mumbled, running a muddy hand through his greasy hair. He had no doubt, looked like he had been hit by a truck. His jeans were nearly ripped to shreds, his skin exposed and bloody. Some of it his, someone of it not. His knees felt weak at the spot, his whole body swaying slightly his muscles groaned in exhaustion. Sam huffed an irritated breath and shut the door behind them.

He tossed the duffel bags to the floor with a thud and shuffled to the couch. He stared at it for a minute. The dark blue couch stained with coffee and god knew what else. He held his breath thinking about his options. However, a tired sigh and sink of his shoulders won over him. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm too tired to worry about what's nesting under the cushions." And with that, he collapsed and watch Dean check out the bathroom hazily.

"I'm going to shower. Then I call the bed." Dean yelled from out of Sam's view. Sam heard the shower squeal and Dean curse, but before he could protest staying on the worn out couch that was too short for his legs, he was asleep.

Dean hummed T.N.T by AC/DC to himself as he scrubbed his skin raw to get the patches of thick dirt off him. His cuts burned under the hot water, but it had gotten to the point where he just didn't care. He looked down at the blackened smudges and red blood swirling at his feet. How it didn't even faze him anymore. The cheap hotel soap bubbled at his feet, now brown with mud and slowly emptied into the rusted drain. With a death grip, Dean stepped out of the shower careful not to slip. He made the promise to himself that he would not die in some stupid manner.

Dean stared at himself in the foggy mirror, examining the freckles that dotted his face. Being out in the constant sun caused his freckles to multiply. He shook his head trying to shake away the exhastion and dull pain from... well, everywhere. He wrapped the raspy towel around his waist and tiptoed into the bedroom. He lazily slipped on some sweatpants as he stared at the bed. Even as crappy as it was, it looked so welcoming to his worn out body.

Dean rubbed his eyes with a soft groan, careful not wake is brother. He glanced into the other room to see his brother tense in his sleep, his face scrunching with little jerks of his body. Dean padded over to his brother and laid the red comforter that rested at the bed's base over him. Dean ruffled Sam's long hair, causing to fall in his face funny.

"Night Sammy." Dean whispered, before collapsing into bed himself.

...

Cas appeared suddenly into the boys' room. He had been given a message of where they were an hour earlier form Sam. But as he looked around at the figures in the darkness, he wondered if had gotten it wrong. But a sudden single, loud snore from Sam, caused Cas to know he was in the right spot.

The cramped room was quiet, the air conditioning long broken by now, but the room was still ice cold. The soft drizzle outside was soothing. Almost like a rhythmic sighed softly as he almost envied them. Sleeping sounded so relaxing. Like an escape. How he dreamed of escaping for a few hours and just sleep.

He made his way through the room, avoiding furniture the best he could. The duffel bags thrown carelessly onto the ground proving to be a near catastrophe for Cas. He glanced at Sam. His feet hung off the edge of the couch, in his sprawled out position. A red blanket wrapped around him tightly, as Sam somehow managed to get tangled in all his extra limb.

Cas didn't smile, but he looked at his friend fondly. Sam's hair ruffled and stuck up in odd places, his arms sprawled over the edges and his mouth hung open just slightly. He looked... peaceful. For once.

Cas continued through the room and peered into Dean's. He paused as he saw the hunter curled in a ball shivering violently. Cas cocked his head, his brow furrowing. He still had a lot to learn about humans. But, this he knew was very strange. He stepped closer to the base of the bed. Dean's face suddenly contorted, as his right leg kicked out sharply.

"No. No please. Not him! I can't lose him!" Dean mumbled in his sleep, the bags under his eyes glistening with tears. His breathing become heavy and fast and Cas could hear his heartbeat when he leaned in. Who he was talking about, Cas was not sure, but he assumed it was Sam. Suddenly Dean shot upright, drenched in sweat, his voice cutting through the thick air.

"No!" Dean's eyes were wide as he glanced the room. Panic got stuck in his throat as he seemed to forget how to breathe. Cas stepped back startled by his sudden wake. "Holy shit!" Dean grabbed a gun from his pillow and pointed it at Cas, nearly as fast as Dean had woken up. Cas held up his arms and sighed.

"It's okay. It's me." Dean blinked, as if coming out of his daze. He ran a hand through his hair and tossed the gun to the end of the bed. He propped himself up and leaned against the head board.

"You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." Dean muttered. Cas nearly snorted.

"You are the one who shot up so fast." Cas remarked in a gruff voice. Dean tried to smirk, but it came across as a sad gaze. He fiddled with a lose thread on his pants, staring at the awful wallpaper. "You were talking and thrashing in your sleep." Cas stated. He stood like a statue, just watching Dean's green eyes flicker. Dean gulped dryly and rolled his eyes at Cas's obvious statement.

"Yeah? So what." The words hissed out of Dean's teeth as he tried to hide the pain that plagued his thoughts.

"You were scaring me." Cas spoke softly. So softly in fact, that Dean nearly missed it. Dean's face fell as he refused to look at Cas. He sighed and tried to speak... accept he didn't know what to say. Exhaustion over took him as his eyes dropped slowly and his head became heavy. Dean fought the urge to sleep as he didn't want to plummet into his world on neverending nightmares. Cas somehow understood this and instead moved to the other side of the bed and sat down on the creaky mattress. Cas looked stiff as he gazed at Dean.

"Cas... I'm... I'm fine." Dean's voice was hushed now. The words rolling off his tongue hesitantly. Cas bit his lip because he knew Dean was lying. He stared at Dean, as he slowly slid down into a laying position. Cas pulled the blanket up to Dean's chin allowing the hunter to curl up in its warmth and drift off to sleep. Cas looked down at Dean, the creases in his face finally relaxed, and the glistening beads of sweat and tears wiped away. Dean mumbled a 'night' in his finally restful sleep. Cas smiled.

...

"Okay Cas. We aren't going to be getting distracted at random stuff, right?" Dean raises his eyebrows at Cas's stoic face. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a child Dean." Dean huffed and nodded, but was clearly not convinced. He continued stuffing the cooler with water bottles and beer and a few cans of soda. Cas grunted and attempted to turn away from Dean. But something kept his eyes locked on the hunter. He studied a large jagged scar running down Dean's arm. Cas wanted to be annoyed with Dean for completely ignoring the night before, but those big emerald eyes seemed to to be a spell. Causing the angel to lose train of thought.

Guns clicked together as Sam riffled through the duffle, mentally keeping track of all their supplies. He then zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced at his brother and noticed he was staring at Cas when the angel was busy playing with the TV. Sam smirked, but said nothing.

"Okay. I think we're ready." Sam cleared his throat, breaking his brother from his thoughts. Cas gripped his angel blade in one hand, and a small handgun in the other. Cas gave a slight nod, his stoic expression turning to a Cas smile. Which was nothing more than a slight curl of the lips. Barely anything resembling a smile to the outside person. But to the brothers, it was perfect.

Dean grinned and bounced up towards the door. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

...

The arts fair was crowded with what seemed like miles of colorful little tents and booths. Each tent was filled floor to wall with random works of art. Paintings, sculptures, quilts, jewelry, and an assortment of useless knick-knacks seemed to swarm everywhere. Music from street preformers rang through the air, mixing together with chatting people and engines of food trucks that gathered at town square.

Sam and Dean pushed through the crowds, keeping their focus on looking for their target: a witch selling cursed items to people. Dean grunted at all the crap hanging from walls, but deep beneath that constant glare, was jealousy. He wanted to be able to stroll through a fair looking at junk, and having money to buy said junk.

Cas trailed behind, often getting fixated on some object. His eyes couldn't pick on something to focus on, as there was too much going on. Too much to see! But every now and again Dean would glance back, motioning for his friend to follow. Cas did so, almost reluctantly.

"There." Sam whispered, nodding his head a small enclosed tent. Weird symbols scattered the outside, and clutter of odd things gathered in the tent. But to the majority, it was just art. But the Winchester's knew better. Sam stood stiffly debating what to do. People were coming in and out, so killing the witch on the spot wouldn't have done much good. He bit his lip, and turned to Dean, who looked out into the sea of activity, appearing lost with all the noise and colors. Sam clapped his hands, knocking Dean away from his daze. Sam studied his brother trying to find what was wrong. But Dean, cleared his throat and any sign of emotion was gone.

"I'll go check it out. You... find Cas." Sam trailed off looking around at the crowd of people. Cas was gone... again. Whether he got lost in the crowd or he had teleported out, the boys were on their own. Finding a man in a trench coat shouldn't be hard... but unfortunately, he could have been anywhere.

"Not again!" Dean scowled. He looked back at his brother and sighed. "You know what? Forget him, will call him if it's important." Dean turned and headed in the tent. Sam took one last glance around for the angel before disappearing into the tent himself.

...

Sam grunted as he was thrown back into a wall. Blood trickled down his forehead the only warmth on his cold face. He gasped for air desperately, but the witch had a firm grip, squeezing every so slowly, the life out of Sam. His limbs flailed in hopeless attempts to free himself. He could see from the corner of his eye, Dean sprawled out on the floor, blood pooling underneath him. It was a lot of blood, and that made Sam's stomach lurch. Dean's eyes cracked open as he tried to steady his pained, ragged breath. Sam muttered a few curse words as the witch pressed harder. He could feel his head sway as he became dizzy.

Shit. They had almost got here's. Cornered her behind the bank in the town square. And they were so close to taking her out, but Sam had looked away. For just a second, but it was enough for the witch to fling him across the alley. Now his brother lay half unconscious, blood oozing from his leg. Sam felt his last breath rise up his throat in a desperate attempt to get oxygen to his screaming lungs.

"Hey! Assbutt!" Shouted a gruff voice from the alley way. Dean choked out a mumbled "Cas," but the angel didn't hear as his focus was hard on the witch. He held the gun, glancing down unsure of how to use it. His brows furrowed in rage and he chucked the pistol to the ground. And then... he smirked.

With a snap of his fingers, the witch exploded. Pieces of blood and tissue. Chunks of skin and organs flew in every which direction. Sam closed his eyes, gagging in disgust. Sam felt himself drop from the wall, his lungs burning for the air he greedily took in.

Dean slowly sat up, groaning in pain. A deep slash in his leg came running down his knee to his shin. The gash dirty and raw. Cas sighed and kneeled next to his best friend. Gingerly, Castiel touches his leg, and with a quick shout from Dean, the slash was gone. Cas bit his lip, pulling the boys to their feet knowing he had disappeared. They were hurt because of him.

"Perfect timing." Dean grunted, although Cas couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"I'm sorry Dean." Cas whispered. Dean paused, for longer than he realized, but nodded softly and patted Cas's arm. Sam watched the soft gaze they exchanged but said nothing. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Where were you?" Sam's voice seemed concerned. They had come close to death again, an de it would have been helpful if their angel had shown up! He couldn't help but feel a prick of anger. He took in a deep breath, trying to release the boiling pit of rage in his stomach. Not just at Cas, but at everything. It frustrated him how every little thing seemed to set off the ticking bomb in him. Cas's low voice brought him back.

"I got... distracted." Dean nearly choked as he looked at Cas in complete disbelief. Sam was ready to hear his tempered brother explode into a fit about how he had specifically said not to. Instead... the opposite happened.

Dean started to laugh. He nearly doubled over as he became close to hysterical. Sam squinted, completely shocked at his reaction.

"Uh... Dean?" Sam questioned. Dean tried to compose himself finally and couldn't help bet crack a smile. He slapped Cas's back.

"Aw man. Sorry, but you did exactly what I told you not to do. I mean, what caught your eye?" Dean asked slowly returning to his stoic grumpy expression. Sam glanced at his brother still flabbergasted by his reaction.

"It was a dream catcher." Sam cocked his head. Dean turned to face Cas fully. They both seemed to get stuck in their gaze for a second, before Dean broke it for once. Sam almost rolled his eyes. Dean's head tilted.

"Yes." Cas said simply, answering their confusion. With a harsh whoosh and a deep lurch in their stomach, they suddenly popped in font of a colorful blue tent. Cas motioned for them to follow. Dean weaved around the crowd, trying to keep up with the angel in a trench coat. Cas stopped abruptly, in front of a rack. Hanging from silver hooks were several dream catchers. All of them different sizes and colors. Little feathers swayed lightly in the summer breeze. Tiny knots held wooden beads in place, the colors scattered around the weaves of threads.

"What do they do?" Cas cocked his head, gently touching the soft feather. Sam began to speak, but Dean shut him up with a swift stomp on his shoe.

"Don't listen to him. They work." Dean said glaring at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes, knowing Dean was only fueling Cas's near dangerous curiosity. "You hang them above your bed. The good dreams go right through the hole, allowing them to come every night. The nightmares get stuck in the net. It's a trap so they don't comeback." Cas's mouth made an 'o' shape as he stared at them completely mesmerized by their simplicity. Dean straightened and patted the angels shoulder.

"Come on Cas. Dean and I are heading out. We're going to grab some food." Cas nodded but remained still.

"I'll meet you there later." Sam shrugged and tugged Dean's sleeve out of the tent. Cas looked around at all the other little trinkets. Hand carved wooden animals. Jade necklaces. Little leather bags. Cas almost felt overwhelmed, but he had an idea.

...

Dean yawned as he entered the motel room after a mediocre dinner. He felt his body become sluggish as sleep hit him hard. Sam could read the tired look in his brother and knew his face read the same expression. Sam settled onto the couch perfectly okay with taking the couch again. His feet hung off the edge, but he didn't even care as sleep overtook him. Dean threw the comforter over him and watched his brother sprawl out, limbs halfway off the sofa. Dean chuckled to himself, before heading to the bedroom.

He went into the bathroom, and washed his face with a towel, getting the dirt off his worn out expression. He blinked staring at the new patch of little freckles that lined his jaw. He sighed and pulled off his shirt revealing his anti-possession tattoo and several scars. He tried to ignore them, but they all seemed to poke at him. He shook the feeling off, shoving it away with the rest of his emotions. He rubbed his face, another yawn escaping his lips. Sliding on his sweatpants, Dean exited the bathroom and stumbled into the bedroom. He paused.

Hanging over the headboard, attached to a slightly bent nail, was a dream catcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the chapter! Review and Request please! Comments are loved! Thanks! Until next time,
> 
> -Daisy


	3. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Sam’s least favorite time of the year again. Christmas. He just never seemed to understand what made the day so special. But Dean and Castiel want to have one! And where better than an old bed and breakfast that reflects Sam’s favorite movie? Christmas in September! Whoot! Whoot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to another chapter! This story will bounce back and forth from Cas to Sam, as I want the story to be more centered on Sam. However, there will be some Destiel! 
> 
> Please send me reviews and requests! Enjoy!

**Chapter**   **3: Mistletoe**

It was Sam’s least favorite time of the year again. It should have just been another painstaking long day of fighting and sleeping in crappy motels, but today always hurt him a bit more. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or the sense of false hope, but it was just an endless nightmare of people pretending that life was perfect. And life in fact, was most definitely not perfect.

All over the tiny town, up north, tucked away in the mountains were tiny fairy lights. Colors were vibrant and bright, as the hung from building to building, wrapped around street poles, and decorated on ever tree in the area. To him, it was just a spotlight. Like they were all poking at him, taunting him that this for him, was just another day his life was not part of.

Stores were lit up, sale signs in all of them, their little bells ringing joyfully as parents came in and out, boxes and bags filling their arms. And every time those shop doors opened, music would come blasting out, ringing through the chilled air. The bakery had sweet smells leaking into the main street, drawing families to peek in for a treat. Kids giggled and ruled the relatively empty streets. They would pass the toy stores gazing dreamily at all the little object they dreamed to soon open. Chubby from all the extra layers, they would wobble down to the park, where snowman seemed to outnumber them. Deep pathways in the snow, were sledding runways that they would come shooting down on. All the while they shouted the familiar tunes, that had no meaning to Sam.

Sam stuffed his already numb fingers into his pockets. The flannel, and two jackets still proving to be too light for the harsh weather climates. He could almost see the scowl on his face, but he had already given up on trying to hold it back. The air was bitter, and it stung his nose causing him to scrunch his face. His hair blew in the morning breeze, allowing little specs of white to float down.

He turned the corner of the main square, where he could already hear children enjoying their winter break. He huffed a warm breath and headed up the slippery steps of the bed and breakfast.

As far as motels went, this one was nice. It’s parlor reminding of something from a movie he saw when he was little. ‘White Christmas.’

He and Dean had been alone for another Christmas, but it happened to be on tv. He fell in love with the music. Humming it for days after until Dean had snapped at him to stop. The parlor of his motel looked so similar to the 40s style, from the antiques, to the old record player blaring music from the time period. He missed the movie. The music. The light hearted comedy. The costumes, and dancing. He paused for a moment gazing around. The little white check in desk. The large doors that lead to a gala hall to his right, and the cute dining room to his left.

He touched the dark oak railing and began to climb the grand staircase the his room.

“Oh honey wait a second.” A tiny older lady hurried over to him, her feet shuffling in her flats. She gave him a warm smile and handed him a cream colored card. “We have a Christmas party every year. Anyone who stays here, is more than welcomed. It’s Christmas Eve in the gala hall.” She practically shoved the card in Sam’s reluctant hands. He sighed.

“Oh... thanks.” She patted his hands and smiled again.

“Of course dear. It looks like you could use some cheering up.” He gave her a little nod, and that fake smile to mask the pain behind it. He climbed up the stairs and into his motel room.

He was greeted by a loud, obnoxious laugh. The room was trashed. Empty beer bottles scattered the table and counter. A trail of blankets littered the floor. “What the hell?” Sam muttered as he placed down the card and paper bag. He opened it and pulled out a still warm, chocolate crossant. He bit into it and followed the sounds into the bedroom. He stumbled back at what he saw.

“That’s it you little shit! I’m going to destroy you!” Dean shouted, while standing defensively on one of the beds. He had a pillow gripped in his hands, ready to chuck it.

“Think again Dean.” Cas teased. Cas too, was standing on the bed. However, his trench coat was somewhere across the room and his tie on backwards. His hair was messily wild but it didn’t seem to phase him as he stared at Dean. Suddenly Cas disappeared. Dean looked around attempting to hold his ground.

“That’s not fair!” Dean yelped right as Cas popped up behind him, smacking him in the back with another pillow. Cas smirked, holding up his pillow for another blow. Dean stumbled forward, but quickly whipped around, slapping Cas in the face. Cas went flying back, dazed for a second, before falling right off the bed with a thud. Dean threw his arms in the air. “Ahah! I win!” He grinned triumphantly.

“What the hell?!” Sam interrupted, leaning on the door way, taking another bite of his unhealthy breakfast. Dean and Cas turned their attention to the hunter and simply shrugged.

“We finished the hunt. We’re blowing off steam.” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. And we’re supposed to be out of here by noon.” Cas groaned and stood, clearing against Sam on this.

“Aw. Come on Sammy. It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s just stay for another night or two. We deserve a break and, it’s Cas’s first Christmas with us. Real Christmas anyway.” Sam scoffed, and shook his head.

“Since when have we ever had a real Christmas?” Sam spat out, the rage in his chest busting out of its cage.

“Exactly my point. So let’s have one!” Sam rolled his eyes, but knowing his brother, this was not a fight he was going to win. Especially with Cas on his side. Sam mumbled a ‘fine,’ and stomped out of the room. Oh how he just wanted the day to end.

**...**

“Come one Sam! Don’t be a buzzkill.” Dean snapped as he stood in the doorway of their room. Cas stood next to him, his normal outfit back on, giving Sam a look. Sam stubbornly shook his head. Dean groaned, clearly irritated with his stupid brother. “You know what... fine! It’s not our loss.” Dean spat before walking out the door.

Cas turned to follow Dean, but took one last careful look at a grumbling Sam. “You know Sam, I may not know much about you humans... but I know that today, today means family.” And with that, Cas closed the door behind him.

Cas’s eyes went wide as he saw half the town all in the large gala hall talking and laughing, all in colorful sweaters and Santa hats. Food and drinks surrounded them as well as Christmas carols. He was so confused by all of this, but he wanted to learn it all. Dean came up beside him and sighed softly.

“This is Christmas? Why do they all worship the fat man in the red suit?” Dean chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. It made Cas feel giddy in his chest.

“Pretty much.” Dean shrugged. His little smirk became wide as he placed a Santa hat on top of Cas’s messy hair. Cas flinched by the movement, but relaxed at the amused expression spread across Dean’s face. Cas could see his reflection in the dark windows. He wasn’t one to be picky about fashion, but he liked this hat. Maybe it had something to do with Dean.

“Come on, let me introduce to eggnog.” Dean pulled Cas by the sleeve, weaving through the crowd. Cas stuck out his tongue just at the name of it. Dean hastily turned around and shoved a mug into his hands. Cas stared at it, his nose wrinkled in disgust. It might as well have been poison. “Come on man. Do you trust me or not?” Cas inhaled, knowing that he trusted him with every fiber of his being. Slowly, he took a sip. Surprisingly it wasn’t that bad. Dean studied his face, impatiently waiting for Castiel’s response. Cas shrugged.

“It’s good.” He stated simply. Dean smiled softly watching Cas jug the holiday drink down. Cas smiled and looked curiously around the room. He wanted to see everything! Dean could see the flicker in his eyes, and pulled Cas along, until they reached a table of fruitcakes, cookies, and pie. Cas and Dean looked at each other, a smile spreading on their faces, before digging into the apple pie greedily.

**...**

Sam sat on the edge of his bed in silence. He bounced his knee up and down as Cas’s words repeated itself over and over in his head. He stared at the black tv screen, while he could hear ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ play downstairs. He wore an intense scowl that made him into an even more sour mood. But he could hear the laughter downstairs. The music and the smell of pine leaking under the door. He could picture the sugar cookies, and pie, and tarts that were packed onto folding tables. He closed his eyes again, picturing the big party in ‘White Christmas.’ Everyone laughing and dressed up. Rosemary Clooney wrapped in silk swaying while she sang so elegantly. Danny Kaye acting awkward around her, the only care was how loudly he laughed or how much champagne was too much. How desperately Sam wanted that, but how scared he was to let himself have it. Scared? He knew that nothing lasted forever, and that’s what terrified him.

He knew that an hour of fun tonight could lead to a whole month of endless pain... but that was happening anyway. He stood up. Well... fuck it. He was going to the Christmas party. He was going to enjoy himself even if the world burned around him. The world burned around him regardless. He grabbed his jacket and closed the door behind him.

**...**

“No Cas, like this!” Dean laughed as Cas attempted to make a snow angel. The two had made their way outside, after eating to their hearts desires. Dean let himself fall into the thick, fresh fallen snow. It was bitter cold, but he didn’t care. He was having the time of his life with Cas. Dean spread his arms and legs, moving them back and forth, showing Cas how to form the print in the snow. Dean stood and watched Cas copy his movement. He laughed at Cas’s confused expression.

“There you go! Here.” Dean said holding out his numb hands for Cas. Cas sat up and gripped the hunters hands, allowing himself to be pulled up. He stopped and couldn’t help but stare at Dean’s sparkling green eyes. The little gold lights that hugged the town were reflected in his eyes, looking like scattered stars. Cas shook himself away from his gaze and turned to the angel he had made. He grunted.

“This is a mockery to my kind.” He said gruffly. Dean chuckled, not at all surprised by his reaction. Dean bent down scooping up a chunk on snow and balling it in his hand. He smirked devilishly, and threw it at Cas. “Hey!” Cas whipped around at the stinging cold feeling that hit his cheek. He turned to Dean, confused by the impact. He furrowed his brows and glared playfully at him before picking up a ball of snow and hitting Dean in the chest. The hunter barely flinched, and instead responded with picking up from snow and packing it together in his now numb hands.

Then... war broke out. They smacked each other with balls of ice, shouting threats and laughing so hard they’d lose focus. Cas lurched forward and shoved Dean in the chest, causing him to fall into the snow with a grunt. He then chucked several snowballs at Dean’s flabbergasted expression. Finally, Cas collapsed next to him, the pair short of breath and soaking wet.

They were shaking, the cold getting to them as it became late in the night. Cas looked up and saw the patches of thin clouds that hung above them. Clumps of snow began to float down the ground, pieces getting caught in Dean’s eyelashes. They stuck out their tongues, allowing the flakes to sway into their open mouths. The clouds began to spread as the snow started coming down harder. But even through them he could see the endless sky of stars, twinkling dimly. Cas wondered if they were each individual heaven gazing down at the cruel world in mockery. But somehow, through all the horrors of their past, and the uncertainty of their future, Cas was at peace. Living in the moment, sitting in the snow, on his first Christmas, with his favorite person no less. It was the warmest feeling.

Dean sighed contently, something Cas had never heard. Content. He loved the word. Dean could hear the music from inside. The lights and outlines of people, throwing their heads back in laughter. Skipping as they danced to ‘Winter Wonderland.’ He envied their joy and carelessness. But here he was, smiling and laughing with his... best friend. He hoped the night never ended. However, their was another thing he wanted to show Cas. Well, really there was a million things he wanted to show Cas, but he settled on a favorite of his. Candy canes.

Dean struggled as he got up and heaved Cas with him. Cas wiped his hands on his trench coat and looked at Dean puzzled by the sudden need to get up.

“Come on Cas, let me introduce you to candy canes.” Dean unconsciously grabbed Cas’s hand as he tugged him up the steps of the inn. The old wood stairs creaked under their boots, the light snow that had begun to pile crunching under each step.

“Dean.” Cas stated plainly, causing Dean to pause.

“What?” Cas slowly looked up, his big blue eyes gazing at the ceiling. His lips curved but not into a smile. Just a fond expression.

“What’s that?” Cas whispered pointing to the roof. Dean seemed to shuffle his feet awkwardly for a moment before gulping.

“...It’s mistletoe.” Cas gave Dean a firm look, motioning him to go on. “It’s a holiday tradition... When umm, two people stand under it...” He trailed off. I mean how could he explain this to Cas? A man and woman? Now that wasn’t right. Dean knew that, but his stomach stirred nervously. If it was a woman, Dean would not make a single hesitation. But this was Cas. He was his best friend. But the weird pulses in his chest seemed to shout at the denials screaming in his head. Dean inhaled again, the crisp air stinging his lungs. But the snow fell so softly, the flakes getting carried in the wind, catching in Cas’s long eyelashes. His pupils reflected the lights and his blue eyes. They were an endless ocean of blue.

“When two people stand under it... they kiss.”

**...**

Sam entered the gala hall with a nervous prick rising up his neck. People laughed and cheered and sang out Christmas carols with slurred words.

Sam glanced around the room, searching for his brother. But he was nowhere to be seen, even by the pie table, which was a huge shock. Sam nudged his way through the sea of ugly Christmas sweaters his ears ringing from the music. He almost smiled at the green garlands that connected from window to window.

The Christmas wreaths, decorated with little ornaments and bows. The large Christmas tree that sat peacefully in the corner. This is the Christmas he deserved. The Christmas he so desperately wanted, but could never have. The music stopped as the song began to change. Sam moved forward, towards the front door. The white paint peeling slightly with age and its glass window frosted from the cold.

He peeked through it, looking out into the town of lights and snow. He blinked as his favorite song came on. Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas.’ Sam nearly felt himself hum along with the music, the words giving him comfort. He peeked back out the window.

His breath caught in his throat as he was afraid to breath. His knees locked in place.

Outside, under the mistletoe and falling snow, was Dean grasping Cas’s coat. Cas’s hand ran through Dean’s hair, standing slightly off his heels, smiling in their kiss.

**Later...**

Sam laid, sprawled out on the couch, the little 80s tv playing White Christmas. Crumbs ran down his flannel as he hoarded a plate of cookies to himself. He could help but sigh contently. While he had not stayed long at the party, or yet to talk to his brother, he felt at ease. Maybe it was his favorite movie playing, as ‘Sisters’ rang through the speaker. Maybe it was his plate of pure sugar. Or maybe because it was his brother, smiling for the first time in what seemed like forever, as he kissed -and Sam meant a _real_ _kiss_ \- Cas. Seeing his brother calm and happy, it was the best Christmas gift Sam could ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Requests please! I do not own White Christmas, although it is a fabulous movie and totally recommend it! Until next time,
> 
> -Daisy


	4. Child’s Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get stuck in another sticky situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to a random two-shot I wanted to put together! This idea is not originally mine, it is based off an idea I found on Pinterest, and there are some other fics similar to this one, but I wanted to put my own spin on the prompt! 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Comments please!

“Dean, I fail to see what’s so funny.” The squeaky voice piped up from the shock of the current situation. The voice spoke right into Dean’s knee cap, while Dean himself, doubled over, tears glistening in his eyes from laughing so hard.

A pair of vibrant blue eyes stared at him in confusion, his eyes wide and lip pouting slightly in a very childlike manner. This made Dean let out another bark of laughter as the little eyes trailed up to Dean’s face, his forehead wrinkled in his anger... well as angry as a 5 year-old could get...

The giant trench coat slid of his thin shoulders, the sleeves covering his trembling hands. The disheveled tie now resting loosely around his little neck which peered up to the giants in front of him. His head tilted to the side, his deep brown hair flopping in his eyes, catching in his long eyelashes. He grunted uncomfortably. “Dean?” The voice which was expected to be the normal raspy tone, now matched one of a little kid years from puberty. 

“Sammy! Look what happened to Cas!” Dean hollered in his hysteric state. Sam himself was a little too shocked by the three foot human in front of him. His gaped mouth and flabbergasted expression blocked the rest of proper judgement. _What the actual hell?_ Dean cleared his voice, grunting for Sam to get a hold of himself... as if he was the one that needed to get a grip.

“Sam?” The little voice piped up again. Dean let another chuckle escape as he began to search the room for the hex bag that did this. Tiny Cas stood stiffly in the pants that fell to the floor, and the boxers that barely hung at his little hips. Sam kneeled and wrapped the trench around Cas in a cozy bundle and lifted him off the ground. 

Cas was surprisingly light, and thin he might add. Sam still couldn’t comprehend what had happened. Cas had touch an odd looking hex bag in his curiosity, against Dean’s hollers to leave it be. Sam looked up when his brother called for him from across the warehouse.

“Hey Sam? Was this the thing Cas touched?” Dean held up a little green hex bag stuffed with foul materials that reeked like vomit. He smiled proudly to himself that he found the culprit of Cas’s sticky situation. After a few seconds of exchanging a few wide-eyed blinks with a disgruntled Sam, Dean’s expression dropped. “Oh shit.” Dean let go of the hex bag and stumbled back. “Shit shit.... shit.” His voice had contorted from the deep manly voice Sam was so used to, to a squeaky sound of a little kid.

His face suddenly felt very hot and his hands trembled uncontrollably. His stomach twisted and turned in violent knots, his facial features feeling like they were being stretched and contorted at the same time. His chest became unbearably tight as the ground swayed beneath his feet. Sam watched in complete horror as his big brother peered up at him, his big green eyes full of curiosity.

His big brother. The one who now looked like he was 5 years old, with short blond hair and scattered freckles over a stress free face. The little boy now had an oversized flannel and jeans that fell to his ankles in large tangles. His emerald eyes scanned the clothes in slight confusion, his nose wrinkling in the process. Cas rested in his arms still but he squirmed with a little gasp. “Uh-Oh.” Cas whispered. Dean jumped back, tripping over the oversized jeans and fell to the ground. He bit his lip as he held in the little yelp, however all problems seemed to be forgotten as Dean saw Cas’s little face.

“Cassie!” Dean giggled joyfully, as he bounced up and towards Cas. Cas waved at him with a soft smile, the trench coat sleeve flopping over his arm. Same stood stiffly still completely unsure of what to do.

Sam would admit that he had no idea what to do. He didn’t dare touch the hex bag, but so much confusion rushed through him at once, it was beyond overwhelming. 

He did know however that Cas and Dean were five. They both seemed to understand who they were... yet all the pain, all the stress and guilt... just gone. Like their memories had been wiped of the pain that surrounded their lives. Like an innocent little kid.

Sam also knew that the hex affected each of the men... well boys differently. Dean seemed to have the vocabulary and attitude as any other little kid. Cas however seemed to be a mixture of his normal self and a little kid. Angelic mojo could possibly affect the spell differently? Pain and guilt, much like Dean had dissolved, but oddly enough his extensive knowledge and vocabulary stayed in tact. However he seemed to be just as oblivious to culture (like a little kid) as before. 

Sam had to slap himself just to make sure this was real. Two very real little boys gazed up at him. A charming grin was plastered on Dean’s face, one that at the age, appeared as if he was planning something. Cas wore his usual solemn expression. Suddenly it hit Sam just how much harder everything became.

“Uh... Dean? Let’s maybe uh... get you some clothes?” Dean looked down at his naked state and burst out laughing as any little boy would.

**...**

“No! Dean get back here!” Holy shit, his brother stubborn as fuck. Little Dean was squealing taunts at his brother, having the larger hunter chase him throughout the bunker, while Cas sat quietly on the table, his feet hanging over the edge, swinging freely. 

“You can’t catch me!” Dean squealed as he ducked under a table. He swiftly crawled under it, exiting where Cas’s legs hung over. Sam groaned and chased after him, struggling to follow Dean’s path under the table. Sam swore bitterly as he smacked his head on the table trying to get free.

“Sorry Cas.” Sam spoke quickly as he moved the table, finally got to his feet. Cas sighed softly and slid off the table and with quick little steps, chased down Dean.

“Come play tag Cassie!” Cas launched himself at Dean, causing them to crash to the ground. Cas’s smaller body struggled to hold the other rowdy boy down. “Hey!” Dean complained as Sam pulled him to his feet and struggled to put the miniature flannel on him. Sam stepped back finally sighing as he had managed to get coats and shoes on both boys. Good god he couldn’t wait for Rowena to call him back! He really needed to reverse that spell.

“Okay look! We need to get some energy out. Let’s go to a park and get some food, okay? Will you please settle down if we do that?” Sam groaned. Both boys glanced at each other as if exchanging a silent agreement, and nodded. Sam smiled finally. “Great. Now there are a few rules.” A loud grunt and roll of eyes came from Dean. Cas patted his arm to get him to listen. Dean reluctantly agreed.

“Okay, first when in public people need to think we are perfectly normal. So they need to think that I’m... your dad. Got that?” They nodded in unison, Dean still bouncing around ready to go, “Second, no talk about monster, angels, demons, none of that, you hear?” Sam paused and waited for their answer. He sighed. “Good.”

**...**

Sam pulled the Impala up into a parking space and looked in the mirror to see the boys whispering in each other’s ears and giggling in response. Their feet bounced up and down excitedly, mud and dirt staining the seat. Man, when Dean was normal, he was gonna be pissed. 

“Okay... just don’t.... God I don’t know what I’m doing! Just don’t get hurt.” Dean gave him a devilish grin, giving Sam a nervous knot in his stomach. Cas gave him a soft smile and followed Dean towards the playground.

“Hey Cas! Come on! I’ll push you on the swings!” Dean sprinted over the wood chips and skidded to a stop, reserving the swing for Cas.

“Dean, is this the best of ideas?” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah! It’s fun!” Cas shrugged and settled onto the swing. Dean’s feet dig into the wood chips as he reeled Cas back. He smirked, and pushed.

Cas giggled as the Dean pushed him higher and higher.

“See? I told you it’s fun!” Dean grinned wildly, prepping for Cas to come flinging back, ready to push him again when he noticed that Cas’s expression dropped sadly. Dean dug his feet into the ground and grasped the swing, steadying it to a stop. “What’s wrong Cas?” Cas wore a small frown and let out a whimpering sigh.

“The swings reminds me of when... when I could fly. But I can’t now.” Dean put a little hand on his best friends shoulder.

“If you could fly, you wouldn’t want to play with me though. You’d be to busy playing in the clouds with the angels. I couldn’t come with you” Cas’s head snapped up and shook his head.

“No way, Dean. I would always choose you!” A reassuring smile crawled on Cas’s face. Dean grinned back. Their conversation was soon forgotten enough as Dean decided on a new game.

“You wanna play tag instead?” Cas could barely react before Dean took off in the other direction, his laugh an echo in the October breeze. Cas slid off the swing chased after the little hunter searching the playground and surrounding field for his friend but was at a loss. Cas grumbled irritably, unable to find where Dean had run off. Cas, not watching where he was going stumbled onto the pathway and tripped over a stroller.

“Oh I’m so sorry, are you okay?” A women’s voice sputtered. Cas looked up at her with big eyes.

“Yes. My apologies.” The women chuckled at the little boy’s words. “Hello, my name’s Castiel.” Cas held out his hand waiting patiently for the woman to shake it. Reluctantly, she did, but she seemed a bit unnerved by the proper, well-mannered five year old in front of her.

“Well, hi Castiel... are you lost?” Cas glanced around and shook his head.

“No, I don’t believe so. I am looking for Dean.” The woman cocked her head.

“Dean?”

“Yes... he’s my... brother. We are playing tag but he appears to be hiding.” The woman’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and stood again, gripping the stroller.

“Well honey is your mom here?” Cas shook his head and shuffled his feet.

“No, I don’t have a mom... but Sa- my dad is over there.” Cas answered, pointing towards the park bench, where Sam sat, reading a book on spells. She gave him a little nod and pushed her bangs back.

“Well let’s go talk to him.” Cas followed her as she strolled up to Sam, causing him to snap the book shut urgently. He gave her an uneasy smile and scooted over.

“Is everything okay?” Cas laughed and sat on the bench next to Sam and dug through his coat pocket for some hidden treasures. He grinned as he started to pull out the demon killing knife, but Sam smack a hand over his pocket, denying Cas the treasure.

“Yeah, your son ran into me. He said he’s looking for his brother.” Sam’s eyes widened a little as he sputtered.

“Cas, where’s Dean?” Cas lifted his arms and shrugged. Sam groaned and stood, grabbing Cas’s hand and tossing the book his bag. “Thanks for letting me know. He’s always running off and getting into trouble.” The woman smiled fondly and held back a laugh.

“Well this one is a little angel. Very polite.”

“Thank you.” Cas answered for Sam, tugging on his giant hand to hurry off and find Dean. He waved to the woman and the baby sleeping in the stroller. “It was nice meeting you.” Cas said as he tore off in the other direction and across the soccer field. The woman laughed and waved at the odd little boy.

“Yeah they are _nothing_ alike.” Sam snorted, before saying a short goodbye and rushing across the field. He stopped shortly as Cas was standing under an oak tree, looking up with blatant curiosity. “Cas?”

“Dean is up there.” Sure enough, Dean was sitting in the tree, his legs swinging over the edge, a smile plastered to his face.

**...**

An hour later, the three sat in a booths at a nearby diner, Dean squirmed in his seat, begging Sam for a milkshake.

“Pleeeeease?” Dean droned on, earning a smack on the shoulder from Cas, who had gotten fed up with his incessant begging.

“Dean, I said no. You are hyper enough as it is.” Dean scowled and waited impatiently for the waitress to bring by their meals. Cas sat quietly in his spot next to Dean, watching the boy curiously.

“Cas, you okay?”

“I suppose so. I’m a little tired.”

“Well I guess we’ll have to head home after then. Get some sleep.” Cas yawned and rubbed his eyes, giving Sam a little nod. Sam himself felt like he may need to sleep for a good decade after this adventure.

“I’m not gonna sleep!” Dean declared, pounding his small hand on the table. He puffed out a lip and crinkled the corners of his eyes in a goofy expression. Sam only groaned in response, suddenly feeling sorry for what Dean had to deal with when Sam was six.

The waitress quickly came over and dropped down a pb&j for Cas and a kids burger for Dean. Sam himself got a well deserved beer. Dean wolfed down his meal in less than a minute and looked at Sam with another pleading expression.

“A milkshake please? Just a small one? I’ll go to sleep then.” _Really?_ Sam shook his head and Dean looked as if he was going to throw an earth shattering temper tantrums, his little fists squeezed tight and his face red with anger. Cas rested hand on his shoulder and whispered something Sam couldn’t hear. It made Dean go quiet, a little giggle escaping as he exchanged another whisper with Cas.

“What are you boys whispering about?”

“Nothing!” Dean spoke quickly, but Cas has already beaten him to it.

“Planning a heist to steal the milkshake drink.” Sam nearly choked on his beer. 

“Uh, Yeah. I don’t think so. It’s time to go.” Sam hastily paid the bill and dragged a defeated Cas and Dean out of the diner.

**...**

“Oh boy... this is quite the...” Rowena stared at the little boys playing under the library tables. She whistled at the predicament that giggled and squealed.

“Can you turn them back?” She blinked and turned to the tall hunter and sighed.

“I believe if I reset the hex bag, and do the incantation backwards, I should be able to revert the spell. But it will take-“

“Rowena? Would you join us in a game of hide and seek.” Cas asked, popping up from under the table. He was clearly exhausted but was so adamant on making Dean happy. He smiled softly at the witch, waiting patiently for a reply.

“Umm...”

“You know what? You Dean should probably go to be it’s late.” Cas nodded, compliant. Sam groaned at the thought of wrangling Dean up and getting him to sleep. Sam instead leaned down, eye level with Cas. “Cas bud? Could you get Dean to go to bed.” Cas nodded and let out a tiny yawn.

**...**

It took 15 minutes for Cas to actually get Dean into a pair of pajamas that Sam had bought to fit him only a few hours before and into his bed. Dean was clearly more tired then he let on as he quickly slipped away into a peaceful slumber. Sam smiled. His brother was actually cute like this. A tug on his hand brought his attention to Cas.

“I wish to go to bed now.” Sam lead him down the hall to Cas’s bed room and tucked him into bed under the five blankets Vas insisted on having.

“Okay. I’m going to do some work with Rowena. You need to sleep.” Cas snuggled in and closed his eyes. Sam began to close the door when he heard a little peep.

“Goodnight Sam.”

“Goodnight Cas.”

**...**

1:36 A.M. Dean woke up in a cold sweat, his blankets thrown off the bed and his pajamas soaked with sweat. He wiped his forehead and whimpered. The dream had been intense for a five year old. So much blood and so many screams. It terrified him. He looked around in the dark and shuddered, looking for a comforting face but nothing but darkness stared back. 

Dean jumped out of bed and tiptoed out of the room and across the hall scanning the dimly lit hallway for Sam. No one. His heart rate picked up as he felt another wave of fear. He was too afraid to turn back now. So he opened the door to find Cas curled up in the blankets, sound asleep. Dean crept across the room and shook the little angels shoulder.

“Cas?” He stirred and rubbed his eyes, gazing up at Dean’s nervous expression. 

“Dean? Are you okay?” Dean shook his head and tugged on the blanket slightly, a deep flush of embarrassment rising up his cheeks. Cas didn’t miss a beat as he pulled off the covers to make room. Dean slid in cautiously, but Cas happily tossed the blanket sober him and tucked his chin on Dean’s shoulder. Dean relaxed almost immediately and curled around his best friend, arms hugging him tightly, and chin pressed against forehead.

It was only a few minutes before they were both sound asleep to the best sleep they ever had.

**...**  
**3:49 A.M**

Wisps of purple and white swirled around the bed, reverting tiny hands to large one, small shoulders to broad ones, and short legs to long ones. Still the two slept peacefully, fitting together like two lost puzzle pieces even back at their right age and size.

Now, there was no denying the best sleep of their lives. No denying it to Sam and Rowena who found them in that position after Rowena reversed any spells. And there was no denying it to each other when they awoke the next morning in a blissful hum and mess of tangles sheets and limbs, a protective grip over what they couldn’t bare to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Until next time,
> 
> -Daisy


	5. 1959

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas takes on a whole new world in 1959 where not all people are like they are today. Angst and cute! Destiellllll!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick one-shot I pulled together! I do not own SPN and there is one line in here that I do not own and I give full credit to fanfic writer of that line. You’ll see what I mean;)
> 
> Enjoy and comment please!

**1959**

**Cas’s P.O.V**

 

“I’m so not doing this Sam! Last time I went back in time, I almost died!” 

 

Sam snorted and continued to flip through another book. The books was made up of mostly scribbles from the men of letters, their hasty notes on complex spells only made the situation harder for Sam to calculate his plan.

 

“And chances are, you’ll come close to death tomorrow too!” I glanced between the bickering brothers. Dean’s arms were crossed firmly across his chest, a pout sketched over his face. While Sam was too busy to care. I can’t believe I volunteered for this, but here I was. Trying to hunt a time traveling witch. What were the odds?

 

She had already killed off three generations of families by going back in time and killing the root. Dean had soon found the connection to the young women, all of the, having a family member that was part of the fascist party in World War Two. Why these people were particular targets, none of us could figure out, but Sam had found who she was planning on weeding out next.

 

“Cas? Sure you’ve got this?” I nodded stiffly. A mission between Dean and I to go back to the year 1959? How bad could it be?

 

I remembered the era only vaguely, as it seemed that it was so robotic. People were in these perfect homes, with perfect jobs, and perfect families. That apple pie life, as Dean would call it. Anyway, with the events of the war previously, us angels had a whole lot more cleaning up to do. And with the reforms of the 60s destined to come around we had a whole lot more to focus on. Going back to this time, was just as new to me as it would be for Dean. Although there was one plus; Elvis. I knew he was famous then, and I had grown quite fond of his music. I most certainly wouldn’t discuss this with Dean, I wasn’t sure how he’d take that.

 

“Hey, babe! Quit daydreaming, we doing this or not?” Dean demanded. He was so cranky. I answered him gruffly, adjusting my crooked tie. 

 

“I thought you were against this.”

 

“I am. But I’ll just lose if I Rock, Paper, Scissors it.” Dean retorted. I shrugged and stepped closer. I missed the weight of my trench coat on my shoulders. Now I was in an old suit, as was Dean. He had slicked down his hair and parted it, before doing the same to me. It didn’t do much good. My hair would just return to a wild mess, sticking up in odd places. I shared a grin with him as he adjusted my tie. I hated ties. But I hated this damn satchel I had to carry around to make me look official. Dean gave me a smug smirk, and I squinted knowing exactly what was going through his head.

 

“You ready?” Dean shook his head bitterly and glanced back at Sam.

 

“Damn. We could’ve gone back to a cooler time. But here we are, going to the stupid 50s!” Sam snorted again at Dean’s childish comments. Sam looked up, waiting for the two of us to disappear. I gave Sam one last nod and pressed my fingers against Dean’s forehead.

  
  


...

 

Light. I squinted as the sun shone above us coating the town in a welcoming glow. Here we were: May 7th, 1959. Here in the happy city of Willow Creek, Missouri. We stood in the middle of the street, woozy and tired from the teleport. I turned around sharply, as Dean tugged me off the road and on to the crowded sidewalks.

 

“How ya feeling?” He asked adjusting my collar. I nodded and exhaled. Teleporting always took a lot out of me. “Come on, let’s find some place to eat.” He motioned for me to follow, but he was already off, half scanning the town for a diner and half in his own thoughts exploring this new time period. I hated the clothes from now... even if it did make Dean attractive... who am I kidding? He was always attractive.

 

I caught up with him down the street and grabbed his hand. The air was turning bitter from the fall, and although I couldn’t feel it, I could see Dean’s cheeks flush from the stinging breeze. He squeezed my hand back as he kept walking. Didn’t look down. There was no reason to think anything of it.

 

That was, until a young man and I assume his wife gave us a deadly look. I could tell the man was contemplating spitting on our shoes, and the woman shot her chin up like she was thinking of some snobby remark. At first I didn’t catch it. But Dean did. He quickly let go of my fingers and shoved my hand away. He took a step to the side, creating a good amount of space between us. I glanced at him nervously. Had I done something wrong? My stomach contorted into knots and I felt uneasy. Not like monster-on-my-back uneasy, just... hurt.

 

We didn’t receive anymore strange looks as we made our way down to town center. Dean didn’t so much as glance at me. I wanted to say something. To yell at him or question him, but I did not have the words. 

 

Dean spotted the diner and tugged his hands away from the safety of his pockets and opened the diner door, the little bell going off as he... stepped inside. I caught the door and followed him. How odd. Dean would always rush to open the door for me and even Sam. We’d often have this competition, where we’d see who could open the door first. I would often use my powers and slam the door shut before he got the chance to touch it. Then I’d swing it open and shove him inside. It was one of those silent games, where it didn’t have a name, but it had developed over time (along with our stubbornness issues.) 

 

The waitress with bouncy hair and pink apron sat us down at a booth with the strangest little machine on it. I squinted at it, trying to understand what it meant. Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably. I almost groaned out loud. Humans were so difficult.

 

“It’s a jukebox Cas. You put a coin in it, pick a song and it plays it.” I nodded slightly, still feeling visibly frustrated with Dean. I pulled a coin out of my pocket and stared at it. It was made in 1954. Sam made sure everything about our little get up was perfect, so no one would suspect a thing. I inserted the coin. The little box seemed to come to life. I gingerly spun the dial looking at each song choice. I smiled fondly at the little, familiar words. ‘Blue Suede Shoes.`` I selected the song and jumped a little as the sound of the guitar came over the speaker in the entire restaurant. Dean looked at me a bit puzzled. I shrugged.

 

“You like Elvis?” I nodded a bit meekly. For a second I thought I was going to be mocked by him for the rest of our lives. I knew how  particular he was about music. I didn’t want him to make a fuss. Instead, he just shrugged an smirked slightly.

 

“I can dig Elvis.” We were silent again as I tapped my finger against the table in rhythm to the song. And soon enough, the bouncy haired waitress returned with Dean’s monstrous sized burger and plate full of fries.

 

She gave us an odd glance as she plopped down a plate in front of Dean. I gave her a warm smile before she turned away, hair bouncing on her shoulders.

 

...

 

As we left the diner my attention was quickly pulled to the city library. Dean nodded, hoping to get some research done before sunset. I reached for his hand again, but he deliberately shoved it in his pocket and surged onward.

 

As we climbed the library steps and entered the dimly lit room, Dean ran off, almost immediately to ask about newspapers articles surrounding the murders of young women. I followed a few steps behind and waited patiently for Dean to finish talk to the book keeper.

 

“Really? Fascinating that I cross paths with someone so smart and gorgeous.” She giggled as he sent her one of those Winchester winks, the kind that you freeze in place and flush bright red.

 

“Right this way sir.” She ran a hand over his shoulder, lingering a moment longer, puckering her lips. A feeling rose up my throat like a Rock was stuck there, and I realized it was jealousy. I stumbled after them, steaming with vexation.

 

The girl left us from the cabinet room swaying her hips as she walked off. Dean wasn’t paying attention as he immediately began to flip through the pages.

 

“Dean?”

 

“What’s up?” I sighed.

 

“Nothing.” I leaned to kiss his temple but then he did the strangest thing. He pulled away before I could reach him. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to offer a smile that said ‘sorry,’ but by now I was glowering. He glanced about the library and gulped keeping his distance from me and avoiding eye contact with curious strangers scattered throughout the library.

 

...

 

“One hotel room please.” Dean spoke as he rang a little bell. An older man spun around, cigar in his mouth. His suit, I noticed struggled to keep the buttons together as his wide stomach puffed out. He inhaled and coughed miserably. He spat as he spoke, eyes livid as he scanned us up and down.

 

“I don’t give rooms to-“

 

“We’re cousins actually.” Dean cut him off, and stared down at him uncomfortably. I could see Dean’s fist twitch with anger, his brow furrowed and his lips curled into a frown. What was his deal? Why was he suddenly awkward about us? I gripped my angel blade resting in my sleeve. The man gave me a bad vibe, someone very unaccepting. Of what? I was not a monster, nor had we done anything wrong. But here he was, scowling at us like we were demons. I blinked trying to focus my attention on something else. Like the case. It didn’t work.

 

Dean snatched the key from the man’s hand and guided me towards the elevator. I glanced over my shoulder to see the man scoff and mumble under his breath. I grabbed the duffel bags and stomped off towards our room. The hotel we were staying at was fancy to say the least. Because money was different in this time, as Sam explained, we could stay at nice places for the same price as staying at a cheap motel. At least there was one plus about this time.

 

I almost slammed the door on Dean’s face, but decided against it. He followed me in and kicked the door closed. He sighed softly and riffled through the duffel bags I had tossed down on the bed. He looked exhausted, with large bags and a hanging of his shoulders, his eyes struggling to stay open. Watching him, I suddenly realized how exhausted I was. Time jumping took so much energy out of me, that I only now noticed how I swayed on my feet. 

 

I flopped down on the bed, maybe a bit dramatically and grunted to make my anger very clear. He didn’t seem to notice. I felt my fists curl, but I just clenched my jaw and folded my arms, staring out the window to the town alive with nightclubs and dance halls.

 

“Cas?” I didn’t answer, and gritted my teeth. “Cas.” Dean spoke again, clearing his throat. He came around to face me, pulling off his hat. ‘Had to look the part,’ Sam’s words echoed in my head. I refused to look him in the eyes. “Cas, what’s up?” I sighed angrily. What’s up? I narrowed my eyes.

 

“If you don’t already know, I’m not telling you.” I grunted. Dean thought about rolling his eyes, I could see it.

 

“Jesus Cas, come on man! I’m not a mind reader!” I stood, our noses inches apart. My eyes had that bolting glower of blue  that Dean found so intimidating... and also, after a snarky confession, arousing. His expression was suddenly filled with confused anger. 

 

“An excuse for your obvious lack of observation!” I snapped. It was, as I noticed, my pure exhaustion that lead to the sudden outburst. Dean growled, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

 

“Dude! I can’t help, if you don’t friggin’ talk! So quit getting so pissy and tell me what’s up!” His face contorted and reddened in rage, lips twitching and jaw tight.

 

“You want to know what’s up? Today! Your whole little thing you pulled! Every minute of it, you just pretended that we were nothing! You didn’t do that at home! And now you have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong!?” I shouted, venom hissing through my teeth. His face fell and eyes widened in deep realization. He gulped and nodded in understanding. It took a moment for him to set aside any leftover rage that had been brewing like a hurricane in his chest for months. Not at me, just at the world. Once he settled, his shoulders slumped and we exchanged a sad gaze.

 

“Cas, I... I know. I should’ve explained is before we even arrived here. The 50s... they aren’t like home.” I snorted.  _ Clearly _ .

 

“People in this time... they aren’t always accepting. Not to gender, race, or orientation. That’s not true for everyone, but the majority feel this way. I didn’t want us getting into more problems. Some people will go as far as brutally beating up people who they feel are different.” There was a flinch of darkness through the shame that coated his tone.

 

“Dean, no one could beat us up.” I pointed out. I felt a sigh of relief flood through me. “I have my angel blade.” I smiled proudly and let the cool metal slide in to my hand. In the lighting, I could see our distorted reflections in its curvature.

 

“I just didn’t want to expose you to this.” He didn’t want me to see what humans were doing to each other. I had seen before, yet he still just wanted to protect me, even if he knew he couldn’t.

 

“Dean?” I whispered. He looked at the ground. Then, rage. A full explosion of pulsing energy, throbbing to break free from the heavy chains of stress that crippled him.

 

“I fucking hate this! Even at home, I mean those sons of bitches! What do they know? What did  _ you _ do wrong? What did  _ I  _ do wrong? Dammit!” Dean hollered, kicking the chair with a sharp thud. The chairs legs swept out from beneath the seat and the chair slide across the room in a loud crack.

 

“Dean!” His head snapped up as I jumped from the bed. He was afraid. It was written all over his face. The same fear that had held him back for years. “It’s okay.”

 

“It’s not though Cas! It’s not okay, because they make us and everyone else feel like that!” He muttered over and over ‘it’s not okay.” A silent heave for air overtook him with the lump lodged in his throat. I searched for his hands and intertwined our fingers. I shook my head slightly and let my lips curve gently into a smile. He always gave me a reason to smile.

 

“Dean. I personally do not give a damn what other people think of us. You shouldn’t either.” I smiled softly as he finally met my intense stare. “I pity them. They don’t understand what it’s like to share a profound bond.” The creases in Dean’s face softened to my words which felt like eons since they were last said. So much had happened since then. The room was silent except for the cars below. 

 

“Dean?” I whispered, inching closer to him.

 

“Hmm?” He hummed back. I leaned forward and sealed the space between our lips. His lips didn’t move as he registered what was happening, I liked to think of it as a trance. Heaven  knew he had the same affect. I felt him respond, pressing our noses together and wrapping his hands around my torso, for a still moment.

 

The maid would have shrieked the next morning accidentally stumbling in on us curled together in a mess of tangled sheets, shirts disposed to the floor in the heat of the midwestern nights, my head tucked beneath Dean’s where I always ended up. There was no doubt that she had tattled to the landlord causing him to fly up the stairs smoking cigar in hand to match the steam coming from his ears. He screamed and hollered, cursed and spat at us, but Dean just smiled at him. The landlord curled his fist, reeled back, but before he could make contact with Dean’s cheek I appeared behind him, eyes glowing blue, and my true voice spreading his ear drums. I had never seen a man so frightened when he turned around and I smirked, blade in hand, the morning the light making it impossible to see his reflection in the tip of the blade. He wiped around, trembling, but Dean socked him in the nose with a sickening smack.

 

“Really wanna tell an angel what he can and can’t do again? Cuz you’ll have to deal with me too.” Dean leaned close to his face and smirked. “And you wouldn’t want that.” With a quick flash, our bags, and forms had disappeared from view, back to hunting a witch like any other normal day.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was okay! Until next time,
> 
> -Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> So I hoped this turned out okay. I hope Castiel doesn't seem childish, but he's new to the world, and I want him to be enthusiastic. Also Dean. I know he's Mr. smooth, but I feel because he really likes Cas, that he should become a bit more shy like most people. Let me know what you thought, and if you would like for more one-shots of Destiel, Thanks! Untile next time,
> 
> -Daisy


End file.
